I Have Lost The Words
by BabyBlueEyes23
Summary: "And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in." -Jane Austen. She had always strived in being the ever perfect beauty that she has so intricately woven together, the pretty shell that all are convinced by, except for the two, incredibly contrastning, boy that love her the most. Season 1, AU. Nair/Dair Triangle.


**Disclaimer: Title comes from song by the artist Birdy, with the same title. The first chapter is a collaboration between I and** _ **Lovelybeauty468**_ **, the rest of the story is completely my own…**

 **Standing in the Way of the Light**

 **..**

 **..**

 **..**

" _"All shadows of clouds the sun cannot hide_

 _like the moon cannot stop oceanic tide;_

 _but a hidden star can still be smiling_

 _at night's black spell on darkness, beguiling."_

 _ **-Munia Khan**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **..**_

 _ **Chapter 1: Oh, How the Follies tumble**_

 **~0~**

An early autumn breeze blows gently through the lively city, caressing fallen leaves, and causing littered trash to dance freely in the open air

The boisterous sounds of honking vehicles and chattering pedestrians has swallowed the early morning into a warp of business like charisma and fast paced motives.

Although none of the five burrows of New York City are as quick burning as Manhattan its self.

THe community is comprised of New York's wealthiest, and most high class citizens. _Beautiful, intelligent, enticing._ Manhattan, New york has always been the brightest and most thrived after city of America as a whole.

Though, as most things prove, the thin layer of pristine and class that surrounds the city, is a vail to conceal the utterly dramatic and uncontrolled side, where everyone knows everyone and secrets spread quicker than wildfires.

 **~0~**

The ornate penthouse suite is blanketed by the customary stillness that has continuously colored the air through the passing months, the silence only being intruded upon by the subtle _pitter pat_ of water droplets drizzling in the shower.

Long legs crossed, and lanky arms folded behind his neck, _the teen appears to be the precise image of_ leisure as he lies on top his queen sized mattress, adorned with pillows which mirror the color scheme of the entirety of the room, pristine shades of egg shell white, and flex of maroon.

Soon enough, the dark haired boy becomes tiresome of waiting patiently for the girl to exit the bathroom, and concedes into reaching for one of the novels that have accumulated on his bedside table in the passing weeks, _sense he'd cleared it last._

The obsidian eyed boy opens to the first page of the book, to find that he had chosen his first edition copy of Charles Dicken's _The Tale of Two Cities_. It doesn't take long for him to lose himself between the alluring pros, and intricate story telling.

Though the aspect of which the ebony haired boy enjoy's greatest from the story is not one most speak of, rather than the undying devotion by Sydney, it is the complete absurdity of it all. From the frequent coincidences that Dickens had weaved together, to the very idea that the reader should believe the love that Sydney has for _Lucy_ of all people...Not only does the woman seem to have a constant stick up her behind, _but how does Dickens_ expect _anyone_ to understand this pathetic excuse of a so claimed _epic love_.

Daniel Humphrey had long ago come to realize that the prospect of finding a soulmate, and needing to be around that person constantly, is an abstract idea that the saddest of persons cling to, just to avoid the truth that _being in love_ only lasts for so long, and inevitably, one will find themselves alone, figuratively or otherwise.

The only true way to enjoy life, is to live it as if there are no consequences, whether that means partying from dawn to dusk, while drinking or smoking whatever makes you feel good, or purchasing whatever you desire, using that _little black card...A lifestyle that the teen has mastered perfectly._

Before the boy could become to lost in the world from centuries past, he hears the slight creaking of his bathroom door as it opens, revealing a leggy, fair skinned, red head, wearing nothing more than a bath towel, though it gives little to the imagination.

"Hey you," the fiery haired girl greets in a husky tone as she leans down to grant a lingering kiss against his lips.

However, rather than the gesture leaving Dan panting for more, _which she so obviously wanted_ , the ebony haired teen is only frustrated by the droplets dripping from her hair, and onto his novel.

"So what ya reading?" The girl, _Sandra,_ asks in a mildly inquisitive tone as she redresses into her clothing from the previous night.

"Nothing," Dan mutters as he tosses the novel on the top of the pile, knowing that even if he had informed her of the title, she wouldn't have a clue of who had even written it.

"Cool," the ginger haired girl nods, _plainly not having heard a single word he had spoken_.

"So, I'll see ya at Bass's party tonight?" The teen turns post fully redressing, with both brows raised.

"Probably," Dan sighs indifferently, never moving from his lying position.

With a simple, playful giggle, and one lasting kiss, the red head exits the bed rom, leaving Dan in his solitude.

By now, the pattern had become a habitual act... _Party all night. Meet a girl. And bring home so called girl._ In an odd sort of comfortability, it had become a constant in the young man's life, something he can rely on, because it would be his self doing the act, _no one else_.

Subsequent to the girl's departure, Dan can feel his lids becoming heavier, and the enticing thought of slumber becoming more and more appealing, although, before he is able to fall into the darkness, he can hear the buzzing of his phone, calling out for his attention, and with a reluctant grumble of annoyance, he does.

"Hello."

"What are you doing!" The low voice on the other line exclaims immediately.

"Who is this?" Dan queries.

"The fucking queen of England!" The familiar voice snaps.

"Nate?"

"Answer the damn question Humphrey," Nate continues to splatter on, confirming his identity while doing so.

"What question," Dan breathes with slight irritation, truly having wanted to catch a few extra hours of sleep.

"What are you doing!"

"She just left," Dan replies smugly, earning a disgusted role of the eyes from the other boy.

"Just get your ass over here, will ya." Nate commands.

"Why should I," Dan goads.

"Because the captain is trying to make me join him and his old war buddies for a round of golf, so they can tell me a bunch of war stories, _half of which are a bunch of shit._ So you need to come here, and tell my dad that we have early soccer practice or something." The dirty blonde on the other end rants, soliciting a small chuckle from his close friend.

"I'll be there in fifteen, just chill," Dan advises as he rises from the bed to redress.

 **~0~**

Gentle rays of sunlight seeps through the Bay window, heating the face of the lovely girl, who lies fast asleep in her twin sized bed. Post reluctant tosses and turns, the teen finally excepts the fact that morning has risen, and lifts her pale lids to reveal eyes as deep and dark as a pool of chocolate.

With a sigh, the chestnut haired girl shifts her position so the heavy blanket no longer envelops her petite frame, and stands from her comforting sheets.

With a slight shiver, the teen allows the harsh feeling of reawakening to attack her yet exhausted body, while she walks towards the Bay Window. The opening grants her a perfect view of the monumental _Brooklyn Bridge_ , the very same bridge she must cross every day for the next year of her life, to attend a school filled to the brim with teens whom's lives a girl such as herself only hears of in those _over dramatic_ teen soaps that everyone is enticed by.

In an almost subconscious habit, the brunette slides a finger over the cover of the various novels that pile on top of the window cell. The book just so coincidentally being _A Tale of Two Cities_ by Charles Dickens.

The brunette lifts the warn paperback, immediately turning to her most frequently read page…The page where she can truly see Sydney's undying and utter love of Lucy. Reading his sacrifice to ensure the man Lucy loves is safe, which in-turn assures her joy, breaks the young woman's heart. _How great must that be, to feel so strongly for another that you would ensure her happiness, far above your own._

Though, before the chestnut eyed girl is able to lose herself in the space between the words...She hears the shrill ringing of her alarm clock, indicating the true start of the sunday morning.

With a disappointed exhale, she sets the prized, peace of literature on top the various stacks of novels, and walks towards the kitchen of her small loft.

It doesn't surprise her to find the hunched form of her mother lying against the table, her head lying comfortably over what the teen suspects to being yet _another_ set of designs for the _Waldorf fashion line_.

With a tentative hand, the dainty girl shakes her mother into awakening.

Subsequently to a few shakes, and whispers to wake up, the curvy, middle aged woman, rouses into consciousness...Just as she does every morning.

"Blair!" The woman, Eleanor Waldorf, exclaims in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom..." Blair begins to speak with a cautious undertone. "This is our kitchen, I found you asleep in here again."

"Oh...That's right." Eleanor mutters as she rises from her seat.

Blair isn't surprised in watching her mother stumble around to brew herself a fresh cup of coffee.

"Mom, this is the _fourth time_ this week...Don't you think you should slow down even a _bit_." Blair suggests, a worried strain lacing her words.

"Oh honey, that's ridiculous. _I'm fine,_ " the older woman waves her daughter's worries away. "And besides, I'm _very_ excited of this new line, people are just gonna eat up at fashion week!."

"Whatever you say," the younger brunette concedes as she reaches for a glass bowl, gnawing on her bottom lip all the while. _It being a habit the girl had acquired in her youth, for whenever she was questioning, or dishonest_.

"You know darling, I didn't forget what today is," the darker haired woman, Eleanor, grins in a _sing-song_ sort of tone.

"Oh yeah?" Blair laughs. "And what's that mom?"

"Today is the day before my baby girl starts going to one of the most _nationally acclaimed_ high schools, in the country!" Eleanor cheers in barely controlled excitement.

" _Mom,_ it's not that big of a deal," Blair insists, as she continues to make her bowl of cereal.

"Oh hush," the woman demands. "You are attending Constance Billard's school for girls, the students who go there spend more on an accessory than the down payment of this apartment."

"They sound like a _splendid_ group of people," Blair scoffs in sarcasm.

"Oh come on hon," her mother pleads. "This is _huge!"_

" _I guess_ ," Blair admits abashedly.

"Well, _I know_ for you," Eleanor persists. "So, I can spare a day at the boutique, how about me and you get some _real_ breakfast," she offers while tossing a disparaging glance to the cereal on the counter. "And then we can have a shopping day, maybe get those ballet slippers you had your eye on?"

A joyful grin melts into the younger girl's features, appreciative of her mother's offer, and obvious happiness.

"Mom, I'd _love to_ , but I know you, and I know that you won't be able to _function_ , before you could get those designs made."

Eleanor parts her lips so to retaliate, though Blair cuts off her unspoken words.

"And besides, I promised -V that we'd spend the day together."

The darker haired woman pouts, with her arms crossed against her chest. "Are you sure?" She asks reluctantly.

"I'm positive," blair ensures with an honest smile.

"You really are an angel, you know that?" Eleanor tells her daughter, as she leans downwards to grant her a quick embrace. "Now don't join any gangs, or eat to much ice-cream," she scolds playfully as they part from one another, _shaking her finger all the while_.

"I'll refrain from the _gang_ induction, though controlling my ice-cream digestion goes against my constitutional rights." Blair adds on teasingly.

"You can't win them all," the woman snickers as she watches her daughter walking back to her room.

"Blair!" Eleanor calls loud enough, so that the chestnut eyed girl would pause in her tracts. "You're gonna take Yale by storm."

"I have to get through high school first," Blair reminds her mother, prior to dressing for the upcoming day.

 **~0~**

The dark haired boy sticks his left arm through the sleeve of his tawny jacket, as he walks down the staircase of his lavish suite.

Before Dan could walk out the front door, he catches the sent of jam, and numerous types of berries. He ultimately decides that Nate could wait patiently, as he enjoys a nice breakfast.

Dan steps into the spacious kitchen, to find his younger sister finishing a bowl of fruits.

"Hey Jen," the dark haired boy grins towards the blonde, as he reaches for a peace of bread to pace into the toaster.

"Morning bro," the newly pronounced freshmen grins brightly.

"Where's mother dearest?" He inquires with only the slightest bit of curiosity, he being well aware to the whereabouts of his mother.

"Boyfriend," Jenny responds apathetically, she also having became sanitized by her mother and her various suiters.

"And dad?"

"Still in complete denial."

"So he's still messing around in that stupid art exhibit of his?"

"Yup," Jenny confirms uninterestedly. "You know when men have mid-life crises like this, they do something dangerous, and fun. Like how Mr. Shepard got that motorcycle…All dad did was start a new business, _so now he's even busier than before_."

"Well to his credit, it is in Brooklyn," Dan offers, despising whenever his sister became to upset.

"I guess," the blonde snickers as she rises from her seat.

"Where you headed?" Dan questions his sister once catching sight of the bag hanging off her dainty shoulder.

"Over to Eric's, we're gonna get ready for Bass's party tonight."

"Cool, I'm gonna go save Nate."

"How noble," the girl teases. "I'll tell _Serena_ you said hi," she winks before darting out of the kitchen, leaving an irritated brother in her wake.

 **~0~**

 **A/N: I would have continued on to the party, though I realized the fact that it is getting a bit long, and I have a nasty habit of making chapters** _ **far to long**_ **, which defers some people from reading. I would appreciate any thoughts, and** _ **really**_ _ **really**_ **appreciate some side shipping ideas for the characters outside of the main trio.**

 **Thank you so much for bothering to read it.**


End file.
